


If You Love Me Like Music (I'll Be Your Song)

by Schwoozie



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on Fic, Dirty Talk, F/M, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:50:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3827899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schwoozie/pseuds/Schwoozie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going on a blind date to distract Annette from the fact that he's seeing her teenage daughter... it seemed like a good idea at the time. </p><p>If only Daryl hadn't forgotten to factor in one thing: that teenage daughter herself.</p><p>Based on dynamicsymmetry's "I'll Be Yours For A Song"</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Love Me Like Music (I'll Be Your Song)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dynamicsymmetry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dynamicsymmetry/gifts).
  * Inspired by [I'll Be Yours For a Song](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3551849) by [dynamicsymmetry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dynamicsymmetry/pseuds/dynamicsymmetry). 



> This is sort of kind of fanfiction of dynamicsymmetry‘s I’ll Be Yours for a Song, if that horrible chapter 36 didn’t happen. 
> 
> Don’t read this. Read that fic. Read it. Read it goddamn you.

She’s pretty enough, Daryl thinks, he can’t fault Annette for that. Long black hair, sizable chest, pierced nose, some flower tattoo peeking out from behind the collar of her shirt. Exactly the girl people’d see Daryl going with—maybe a few steps up the social ladder (she has a college degree, for one), but congruous. A cute couple. A fit.

All Daryl wants to do is drop his napkin and run.

Her name is Vanessa, and he’s brought her to the local diner because it’s what he can afford and he thought it might help run her off. She didn’t seem perturbed, however; just nudged his shoulder and said how much she loves having breakfast food with a man, whatever the fuck that means. She seemed a little disappointed when he ordered a burger, but he wants a fucking burger, he needs protein to keep this shit up.

But he’s handling it. He is. Not elegantly—Daryl doesn’t think anything in his life has ever been elegant—but he’s handling it. He’s speaking a little. A few sentences at a time, even. Looking properly invested in the conversation. He even gets into it, for a while, when she reveals that she grew up with a mechanic uncle and they have a chance to trade shop talk. But she seems quickly bored with that, and moves on to asking about where he grew up and  _can someone get him the fuck out of here_.

She’s in the middle of describing her childhood home when Daryl’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He knows it’s rude to interrupt her—but he’s a rude man. She can deal with it.

“Gotta check this,” he says. And then because, while he might be a rude man, he’s also been called a good one, he adds, “My brother’s in some trouble; might be him.”

She nods, completely understanding, and he looks at his phone.

> **Beth:**   _whats she wearing?_

Daryl frowns, flummoxed. Why the fuck does Beth care? Is she worried he thinks she’s sexy? Does she think he’d look at this chick for one moment if he didn’t have to throw Annette off his and Beth’s scent?

He glances at Vanessa, then throws back a quick text.

> **Daryl:**   _black tshirt, jean skirt. why?_

“Sorry,” Daryl says, looking up. “He just—”

His phone buzzes.

She waves towards it, and he picks it up, looks at the screen. 

> **Beth:** _guess what i’m wearing_

He frowns, thinking about it. Again, isn’t really sure why it matters. The girl is fucking weird.

> **Daryl:** _dunno, pajamas?_

He doesn’t even put the phone down before she texts back. She must be hovering over the fucking keyboard.

> **Beth:**   _close_

A picture message comes immediately after it. He opens it without thinking.

[He almost drops the phone.](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/98/86/20/9886204a1ecab267c6e5e508309bdfe5.jpg)

It’s simple. It’s so simple, so Beth—in her bedroom, looking innocently at the camera, blue eyes wide, lips slightly parted, hair tousled and down like she’s going to bed.

But she isn’t wearing pajamas. She’s wearing a sheet. And he would bet his fucking truck she isn’t wearing anything under it.

 _Girl_ , he thinks, cheeks flaring as he exits the picture, looks back at the woman before him. She’s frowning. Daryl panics.

“He, uh. He’s fine. Just wanted to show off some girl he’s with.”

She nods slowly, and he can tell she’s suspicious. She slowly starts talking again, and she’s just getting back into the flow when Daryl’s phone goes off again.

He knows he shouldn’t open it. He knows none of this is helping him get through this date.

“Uh, one sec.”

He opens it anyway.

> **Beth:**   _u didn’t respond :’( didn’t u like it?_

He feels a bubble of hysteria working its way up his windpipe. He swallows it down.

> **Daryl:**   _busy_

Vanessa doesn’t talk when he looks up; just stares at him. He opens his mouth to ask what her problem is—when his phone goes again.

He doesn’t even hesitate before looking.

> **Beth:**   _wish i had a picture of u. it’d make this easier_
> 
> **Daryl:** _what?_

He doesn’t even look at Vanessa while he waits for a response.

When he gets it he nearly chokes on his own tongue.

> **Beth:** _thinking about touching u. ur cum on my hand. tasting it_

“Why don’t you just call him?” Vanessa asks. He opens his mouth to respond, but:

> **Beth:**   _i wanna do that again. wanna use my mouth. swallow all of u_

“Uh, I think he—”

> **Beth:**   _want u to do that to me. kiss me where u touch me_

“I—”

> **Beth:**   _u feel so good daryl. im almost there_

Daryl shoots to his feet, the chair scraping loudly on the floor. Every eye in the room falls on him. His phone is still buzzing.

“... One minute.”

He flees into the parking lot.

Once outside, he breathes in the fresh air in great heaving gasps, knuckles white around the phone. He looks around wildly, spots an alley, and strides towards it, his hand already punching in her number.

She answers on the first ring.

He thinks she sounds breathless.

“Hey Daryl.”

“The fuck you think you’re doing?”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Even if he weren’t already suspicious, the groan she gives at the end of the sentence clinches it.

“Beth,” he says slowly, leaning his forehead on the wall of the alley. “What. Are you doing.”

“Just wanna make sure you’re thinking of me, is all,” Beth says. She is definitely breathless. “I’m thinking of you,” she whispers.

Daryl hisses through his teeth. She laughs at him; not meanly, though, not at all. She laughs in delight. Like they’re starting some sort of adventure together.

They aren’t technically together right now. But he can catch up.

Daryl glances at the parking lot, then moves deeper into the shadows of the alley. He's about to put the phone between his ear and his shoulder, but he pauses; takes the phone with him instead, so she hears every moment of his belt and jeans being undone.

He sighs when his cock hits the open air, holds it tightly for a moment just to luxuriate in the feeling of it in his hand, pulsing. He brings the phone back to his ear.

Beth is silent.

“Well?” he says, giving his cock an experimental stroke. He nearly doubles over, it feels so good. “Wanna start over?” he asks. Now he's breathless too. “What are you wearing?”

“Nothing,” she whispers.

Daryl bites his lip, leans his forehead on the wall so he can watch himself, starts a slow rhythm. “What are you doing?”

“I'm touching, oh, I'm touching myself.”

“Where?”

“Between my legs. My clit.” She giggles, breathy, like the rest of it, and it only makes Daryl harder. “I'm so wet.”

“Tell me,” Daryl growls, flicking his thumb over his slit.

“It feels like... _oh_ , feels like my hand is drowning, like there isn't anything holding me back at all, like... like it's you, all over me.”

“Jesus,” Daryl groans, stroking himself faster. “What feels better? My fingers or yours?”

“Yours,” she breathes. She didn't hesitate at all. “I love when you touch me, Daryl. You're so strong but you're so gentle with me, gentle till you aren't, and then, oh, then...”

“Then what, girl?” he whispers.

“Then it feels like nothing else,” she whispers back, urgent, a little whine in her tone now—she's close and that makes Daryl close. “Feels like you're trapping me but I want to be trapped, want you all around me, inside me—“

“Fuck, Beth, fuck,” Daryl gasps, hand a blur on his cock, “Beth, you better come soon, you better fucking—“

“Tell me, tell me Daryl tell me, tell me what you want—“

“Wanna fuck you,” he growls. “Want you under me, want you riding me, anything, just wanna touch you, feel how soft you are and how fucking wet you are for me—“

“Daryl—“

“You want it, Beth? You wanna come on my cock? Want me fucking inside you, want me making you lose your fucking mind?”

“Dar–, ah, please, god, ah, ah!—“

And he hears it—a solid thump as she drops the phone, another as she slams her hand down and then a muffled cry and then Daryl loses it too, groaning into the phone, clenching his stomach and baring his teeth and spraying all over the brick wall in front of him.

For a long time all he can hear is his own panting, heavy and far louder than he thought it was when he was still going—and he looks both ways quickly to be sure he didn't call down the fucking fire brigade. When he sees no one, he steps a little to the side, turns around and sinks to his haunches against the wall.

“Beth?” he asks into the phone. “Beth, girl, you there?”

It takes a few moments, and then he hears her breathing—just as heavy as his—and then her voice, her sweet voice: “Oh my god, Daryl.”

He chuckles, about to rub his hand over his face before he realizes it's covered in cum. He scrunches his nose and drags the rag out of his back pocket, working it through his fist.

“This date ain't going very well, huh?”

Beth breaks into giggles, loose and happy. It jiggles something free in Daryl too.

“Maybe you ought'a just call it a night,” Beth says, calming herself. “I feel sorta bad for her, actually.”

“None'a this is my fault!” Daryl says emphatically.

“If you didn't act like such a sad sack all the time, Mama wouldn't've thought you needed fixing up.”

“I ain't a sad sack,” Daryl grumbles. Beth giggles again, long and sweet, and Daryl can't help the smile spreading across his face. “Go to bed, girl. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” she says quietly.

He doesn't hang up the phone right away. Listens to her breathing; listens to her listening to him; listens until the line clicks and he's alone again.

Daryl blows a breath out slowly through his mouth and stands, tucking himself back in and trying to straighten himself up—thinking that it's a good thing he was never that straightened up to begin with. When he figures it's as good as it's gonna get, he pauses, sucks in another breath, and leaves the alley.

Their eyes lock the moment he re-enters the diner, and she looks _pissed_. Daryl feels himself shrink a little as she stands, pinning him with her glare.

“Why the hell did that take so long?”

“Had to call my brother—“

“And he was more important—whatever. You know what, whatever. I already paid the bill, just take me home.”

“A'right,” Daryl mumbles, waiting for her to exit before following.

As he waits for her to figure out the archaic seatbelt situation of his truck, his phone buzzes. He practically hears her roll her eyes as he pulls it out.

> **Beth:** _hope she wasn't too mad - want u back in one piece :) sweet dreams daryl <3_

“Sweet dreams, Beth,” he murmurs.

“Did you say something?” Vanessa asks.

“Nah. Nah, nothing. I'll take you home now.”

He opens the window and smokes on the way home from Vanessa's place. He can practically hear Annette's disappointed tone when he sees her tomorrow; and for a moment he feels a pang of guilt.

But then he remembers Beth's giggles in his ear. The way she breathed his name. The heart she left on his phone.

He flicks the cigarette out the window and turns the radio up, humming along absently.

Vanessa is pretty, there's no denying; and a few months ago he might've jumped at the chance for a night with her. And maybe he's an idiot for not doing so now.

Vanessa's a pretty girl. But she ain't the prettiest. Not by far.

That girl—that girl, he's seeing tomorrow.

 


End file.
